


Wade in Skyhold

by Starla-Nell (Princess_Nell)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Blacksmithing, Fluff, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 15:51:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8167532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess_Nell/pseuds/Starla-Nell
Summary: Master Wade and Herren come to Skyhold and meet Dagna and Master Harritt. The master armorers don't start off on the right foot.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gamerfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gamerfic/gifts).



> Poor Master Harritt. In my headcanon, he never talks much with Dagna because he's intimidated. 
> 
> I debated labeling this angst for Harritt, but it doesn't quite qualify.

Wade shivered, despite being wrapped in three thick blankets, as their small caravan reached the top of the nearest rise. Maybe it was his flatlander upbringing, but to Wade ‘pass’ implied there was one ridge you must crest, and you were done. Turned out, finding a mountain pass meant the towering walls of rock and snow were less likely to force you to turn around and find another way.

 

“There it is,” Herren said, betraying much more eagerness than Wade felt. 

 

“Herren, _why_ must your so-called business opportunities always take us to such _cold_ climates? And consider this horrid trek! Who would come here? How am I going to get the kinds of materials it takes to create my masterpieces? I’m doomed as an artist.”

 

“All artists are doomed, Wade, that’s what makes them artists, not craftsmen.” Herren regarded Wade with pity and put a hand on his blanket pile. Wade would rather pull Herren into the blankets with him. The man was a furnace. No wonder he never seemed to feel the cold. Even now, he only had a thick woolen cloak over his normal winter clothes. “Don’t worry, I’ve provided for your _art_ in my negotiations with Ambassador Josephine. Part of the contract is they will bring you unique materials. Also, remember the Inquisitor is a dragon-hunter.”

 

“How could I forget? That’s the entire reason I allowed you to lug me this far.” Wade allowed his misery to color his thoughts. Would dragon scale be worth this frigid torture? “They probably have terrible facilities. They probably have a hole-in-the-wall forge, with no proper anvils. My fomari-enchanted materials will only last so long, and they probably can’t even get proper fuel for the forge out here! It’s probably drab and dusty without any proper lighting. Maybe it’s even outside, like at that horrible Turnip Keep!” Wade shivered again. “I wonder if _Snow_ hold has darkspawn?”

 

“Skyhold, Wade!” Herren exclaimed. “ _Please_ don’t embarrass me by calling it that in front of the Inquisitor, like with Vigil’s Keep.”

 

“You knew the Hero of Ferelden?” The Inquisition scout pulled alongside and cut into their conversation. “What was he like?”

 

“Demanding,” Herren snapped.

 

“Delightful,” Wade sighed at the same time. “He brought me the most wonderful objects to create with. Heartwood… what a marvelous material.”

 

“You’re not dalish. How did you learn to handle heartwood?”

 

Wade puffed himself up under his blankets. “You’d be amazed what you can learn, when you’re willing to share techniques.”

 

Herren snorted. “You’d’ve cocked it all up without me. Probably gotten yourself shot.”

 

Wade deflated again. He _had_ nearly gotten shot before Herren interceded. “Well, it didn’t hurt that I’d made drakescale armor for the Warden.”

 

“I was quite pleased to have that little fact to feed them, yes.”

 

The gruff merchant whose caravan they’d joined cut in.

 

“If you three are done yapping, pick up the pace. Skyhold should be less than an hour from here.”

 

###

 

The sound of a hammer rang through the Undercroft. Herren glanced around as the blacksmith and – arcanist, was it? – finished their tasks and set their tools aside.

 

The lighting was good, but the Undercroft surely wasn’t up to Wade’s standards. It was literally a drab hole in the wall, coated with dust. The anvils looked like nothing Herren had seen. Certainly not ‘proper anvils’. Worried, Herren turned to Wade as they climbed down the left-hand stairs with the Inquisitor, ready to stem the tide of complaints.

 

Wade definitely appeared upset as he examined each piece of equipment briefly but thoroughly, though he skipped the tables with herbs and curtain sketches. His movements were precise, his expression critical. The Skyhold blacksmith watched him out of the corner of his eye as Wade moved to the center of the room for one last sweeping gaze. Herren braced himself.

 

“Why didn’t you bring me here earlier?”

 

Herren opened his mouth, shut it, and then responded, “What?”

 

“This is marvelous! Look at this equipment! I’ve never seen the like! And the forges are cleverly rigged to keep the whole place warm, even with icicles outside!”

 

Herren realized he was the warmest he’d been in _days_.

 

“I can’t believe the things they’re doing here!” Wade turned to the blacksmith. “How did you get the seams on that piece invisible?”

 

The blacksmith was hanging the piece in question on an armor stand, having just put the finishing touches on it. In response to Wade, he shrugged. But Wade was too excited to push for an answer.

 

“The shape of this anvil is so clever! Why didn’t I think of this, it would perfectly solve my problem with veridium!”

 

“I’m glad you like it. You must be Master Wade,” the dwarven arcanist piped up. She was cheerful. Too cheerful.

 

“Forgive my manners, I should do introductions,” the Inquisitor said. “Dagna, Harritt, this is Master Wade and Herren. Wade and Herren, this is Arcanist Dagna and Master Harritt.”

 

“Pleased to meet you!” Dagna piped up.

 

“A marvel. Marvelous to meet you.” Wade was beside himself. Herren was sure he’d have to remind him later of their names, or at least their titles.

 

“Yes, it’s a pleasure.” Herren smiled as graciously as he could, trying to meet Dagna’s cheer halfway.

 

Master Harritt just grunted.

 

“I simply must know all about this equipment,” Wade continued, gushing. Herren loved watching him talk about blacksmithing. He was so passionate. “It’s fantastically clever! How did you design this forge? What does this gadget do? Is it for rune-carving?”

 

Dagna looked at Master Harritt for a count of two. Before the pause could get awkward, she said: “Why don’t I give you the grand tour?”

 

Wade didn’t quite clap his hands, but Herren saw it was a near thing. He was _so_ glad he’d broken at least _that_ habit. Herren knew it came from his delight in his craft – art – but to outside eyes, it seemed childish.

 

Master Harritt wandered over to watch them at a distance with Herren and the Inquisitor, still staring at Wade. He surprised Herren by speaking a whole sentence. “Inquisitor, what am I even doing here?”

 

The Inquisitor rolled her eyes before answering. “Don’t try to convince me _you_ are useless, Harritt. You’re always working around here. Unless you ‘look busy’ whenever I come through?”

 

Harritt barked a tiny laugh. “If anything, Herald, it’s the opposite. I use times when you’re here to take stock, organize the shop so I’m not in the middle of something when you need to talk about your order. But that’s Master _Wade_. He made armor for the Hero of Ferelden! I’m _still_ trying to master the Wade Technique for Drakescale armor, and he developed it with just _two_ samples to work with! How can _I_ contribute to the Inquisition, now that _he’s_ here?”

 

“Don’t sell yourself short. He’s been at this longer than you. Besides, he may have armored the Hero, but you’ve armored _my_ Inner Circle. We haven’t killed Corypheus’ archdemon yet, but that’s not for lack of quality armor.”

 

“And I’ll bet you’re not half as fussy as Wade.” Herren tried to cheer the poor guy up. “He almost didn’t let the Warden – the Hero of Ferelden, I mean – take the first set of drakescale armor he made.”

 

###

 

Dagna was an absolute delight. Wade had forgotten how much _fun_ it could be, talking about blacksmithing wonders. The two of them meandered away from the group as they discussed the finer points.

 

“I find dragon skin doesn’t quite lay right,” Dagna was saying. “Dragon webbing, though, is perfect.”

 

Wade fingered the material Dagna handed him. It was very similar to dragon skin, but he didn’t see any of the scrape marks from scale removal. He tugged on it a bit. Sure enough, the skin pulled evenly in all directions, rather than stretching further one direction like typical scraped dragon skin.

 

“Webbing from the wings? Fascinating concept.”

 

“I examined your work for the Warden. I’ve wanted to ask for years: how do you separate the dragon scale? I’d like to use the skin as a reinforcing agent, but I didn’t want to damage the bone. I think I’m close, but…”

 

“No, sadly, separating skin from bone destroys one or the other. You see, the tissue connecting the two on dragons is woven into both. When you cut one, it snaps back and destroys the other.”

 

“Oh, bummer. But wait! If we use acid… Oh, but then it might damage the material…” Dagna started mumbling to herself.

 

Wade noticed a familiar tool on the bench. Someone in the Warden’s party – which one was it again? – had one of those in Amaranthine. “Do you do rune crafting? Herren will never let me learn that. Too much risk of contact with the lyrium, he says.”

 

“That reminds me. You’re a human, and you seem sane. How were you safely able to craft that rune sword you made for the Warden after the Blight?”

 

“Ah, Vigilance.” Wade was pleased Dagna had heard about it. “One of my finest works. The rune was in rune stone so I never handled the lyrium directly. I forged it into the sword itself. I had to be very careful not to crack it too much, but I couldn’t leave it completely intact, either, because then the power would never reinforce the dragon bone.”

 

“I’ll bet you never told Herren that part!”

 

“Of course not! He can be such a mother hen, sometimes. Do you have armor runes, as well? Or just ordinary weapon runes?”

 

“Armor runes? I’ve heard of those, but I’ve never seen them!” Dagna was getting excited again. “Do you know how to make them?”

 

“No,” Wade bemoaned. “I never learned runes, remember.”

 

“Oh, yeah, sorry.”

 

“They were all over Amaranthine. Marvelous things. They helped the fighter in interesting ways.”

 

Dagna seemed thoughtful. “Harritt developed a technique to work similar qualities into the armor itself, using the structure and characteristics of each material. I was hoping he could explain it to you. I don’t completely understand how he came up with it, but there’s no denying it works!”

 

“Oh! I assumed he was your assistant. Why–” Wade glanced over to Herren and _Master_ Harritt, chatting pleasantly. “Why isn’t he – over here?” A dark suspicion formed in his mind as Herren _laughed_ at something the blacksmith said.

 

“He’s not all that talkative.” But he seemed to be chatting up a storm _now._ With Herren. _His_ Herren. “He’s probably just shy.” Herren smiled and waved to Wade. Master Harritt’s smile disappeared, face closing off as their eyes met.

 

“I suddenly feel a headache coming on.” Wade strode purposefully to the trio, Dagna trailing behind.

 

“I’m sure Wade wouldn’t mind, would you, Wade?” Herren was laughing again.

 

“What wouldn’t I _mind_ , Herren?”

 

“I was just telling Harritt he should ask you about the armor you made for the Hero of Ferelden.”

 

“ _That_ is something we can discuss _later._ ”

 

Herren’s eyebrows shot up.

 

_Yes, I saw this flirtation._

 

“I have a _headache_. I need rest after our long ride through the frigid _cold_ mountains.”

 

“Why don’t we see Josephine?” the Inquisitor suggested, ushering them along. “I’m sure she has a room picked out for you.”

 

Wade swept up the stairs, ignoring _Master_ _Harritt_. “Fan _tas_ tic idea.”

 

###

 

“Wade, what was _that_ about? You were simply _awful_ to Harritt.”

 

The Ambassador had left them in their room, which was large enough, but simple. It had stone walls and – thank Andraste! – a small fireplace. Herren had considered unpacking without a word, but he’d decided he was too agitated to dole out the silent treatment.

 

“And why shouldn’t I be?” Wade responded as he moved his clothes from their bags to a chest of drawers. “He was incredibly rude.”

 

Herren blinked, pausing as he made their bed and reviewing the balance of ‘rudeness’ that afternoon. It did not stack up in Wade’s favor, especially considering how nervous Harritt got whenever his idol came near. “Wade, he was just—”

 

“Horning in on my man, is what he was just doing! I saw him talking with you. I saw you _laughing_ at his jokes! And don’t tell me that’s how he is, because he shut down _completely_ when I so much as glanced at him!”

 

Herren blinked. “He doesn’t _like_ me! He’s _terrified_ of you!”

 

“Me? What would I ever do to him? Unless I’m right!” Wade clenched a fist.

 

“Nothing you would _do_! Just – he’s intimidated! He kept going on and on about the Wade Technique for Drakescale Armor. I told him to ask you about it, and he said you seemed difficult to talk to! _That’s_ when I laughed! I had just assured him of the opposite, and then _you_ had to be a perfect ass!”

 

Wade had the good grace to hang his head as he sat on the freshly-made bed, appalled at his own behavior. “I thought… I’ve never considered the characteristics of prosaic materials before.” Herren had no idea what he was talking about, but nodded. “One seemed much like the other, really. But for Harritt to use ordinary materials to such extraordinary effect… I thought you…”

 

Herren finally understood.

 

“Beloved, you have _nothing_ to worry about. He was in _awe_ of you. As he should be. You’ve made armor from a _golem shell._ Who else can say that?” He watched Wade calming down. “You are a colossal pain to keep happy,” he smiled, “but you’re worth the trouble, and then some.” Herren leaned over and kissed the top of Wade’s head.

 

“I assumed the worst. I’ll have to apologize to Master Harritt. At dinner, I think.”

 

Herren frowned. “Yes. You will.”

 

“Sorry I’m so much trouble.” Wade peered up, and mischief danced in his eyes. “Why don’t I show you how worth it I am?”

 

Herren chuckled. “Believe me, I know. But… I suppose I could always use the reminder…”

 

They got the unpacking done. Eventually.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to buhnebeest for beta-ing this work!


End file.
